


That time with the sex pollen

by spacehussy



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Multi, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-28
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehussy/pseuds/spacehussy
Summary: "They're, ah, banned on Cybertron," Perceptor informed Sandstorm softly, staring at the creature in his hands. "Have been for millennia."Sandstorm looked up. "What? These little things? What for, they just-" he stopped then, surprise melting into crystal clear understanding. "Oh. Right. Ummm, how big of a problem is this?"





	That time with the sex pollen

**Author's Note:**

> Contains humorous, nonspecific references to sex, but no actual porn. Several different pairings and threesomes mentioned. Written for a prompt on LJ a few years back involving sex pollen and consequence-free happytimes. Written very quickly and not edited.

"Look at the little guy, isn't it adorable?" Sandstorm cooed down at the wriggling tendrils as they wrapped around his hand. Perceptor stared at it from several meters away, frozen on the spot.   
  
"Sandstorm," he began, politely, but the other mech was engrossed with his new pet. He'd come by the lab to show it off and ask about proper care from an expert in xenobiology and cyberbiology and Perceptor was an expert on everything. They hadn't gotten that far, not even close.  
  
"I've never seen one this small. We used to have them all over Paradron. Haven't seen any since I got here, though."  
  
"They're, ah, banned on Cybertron," Perceptor informed him softly. He continued to remain where he was, even though it was pointless. The creature may only be large enough to fit into Sandstorm's hands, but its tentacles carried hundreds of spore clusters made up of _billions_ and _billions_ of nanites. The visible clusters were suspiciously sparse. "Have been for millennia."   
  
Sandstorm looked up at him. "What? These little things? What for, they just-" he stopped then, surprise melting into crystal clear understanding. "Oh. Right. Ummm, how big of a problem is this?"  
  
"Considering it only takes one nanite to infect a Cybertronian? Quite a large problem, I'm afraid." Perceptor shook his head and finally came forward. "Where did you even find one? How did you get it through inspections?"  
  
"Octane gave it to me!" Sandstorm exclaimed, holding the creature protectively in his hands. "It's not like I had any reason to think it'd be a problem, we always considered their mating cycle on Paradron to be kind of a perk."  
  
That made a weird sort of sense. Perceptor looked Sandstorm over quickly--he'd already been handling the creature for some time and he seemed fine. Perhaps it was a different species?   
  
"How are you feeling, then? You haven't been affected?" he asked.   
  
When Sandstorm grinned cheekily at him, Perceptor's thin hope crumbled to nothing. "Uh, I hate to say this, but I've been exposed to their mating cycle for about four million years."  
  
"Of course," said Perceptor. And no one on Cybertron had been similarly exposed in...several hundred million. He felt faint. Or--something like that. He was suddenly very aware of how close Sandstorm was, so close Perceptor could feel Sandstorm's contact field pressing up against his.   
  
"We need to tell the Prime," Sandstorm said sensibly. Perceptor reached for him, however, and he came closer readily.   
  
"It can wait."  
  


* * *

  
  
"How are the spores spread? Direct contact?" Rodimus asked, although it was clear he had already been affected, considering how his hand hadn't left Perceptor’s arm almost since he came into the room. He was stroking in circles now, and Perceptor could not begin to mind. It had been more than a joor now since Sandstorm had left the lab, and already Perceptor felt restless.   
  
For the time being, he stayed focused on the problem at hand. The creature was in a tank, although there was little point with all of its nanites dispersed.  
  
"The spores are not organic," Perceptor explained in a sigh. "They do not require air currents to move about – I believe we were compromised the moment Octane brought the creature onto Cybertron, almost five joors ago."   
  
"Oh," said Rodimus, looking wan and flustered all at once. "That--that would explain a lot about my morning, actually."   
  
Perceptor didn't really want to ask, but Rodimus was rubbing his arm again, fingers slipping between armor as he grew more bold. He leaned into it as Rodimus explained in a rush, "There was this energon raid--"  
  
"Mmhm." Perceptor pressed himself more readily against his Prime, the charge in his wiring becoming uncomfortable. Touch helped. It helped a _lot._  
  
"--I was fighting Galvatron and Cyclonus and things got-- _weird_ \--"   
  
"Weird," Perceptor repeated back, and Rodimus gave him another flustered look. "Never mind, sir, forget I said anything."  
  
"It was just very confusing, is all," Rodimus finished, embarrassed. "Everyone could be infected with the nanites?"   
  
"Yes, but it's not as bad as it sounds. There's no others of its kind on our planet, so the effect is temporary as the spores will begin to deactivate once no mate is found. We must simply wait it out."  
  
"That doesn't sound so bad," Rodimus said, his mouth against Perceptor's audial now, his large frame so, so much warmer than it had been just a breem ago. Indeed, thought Perceptor, hands stroking down the painted flames on the Prime's chestplate, there were worse ways to kill a solar cycle. Or six.   
  


* * *

  
By the time Rodimus made it back to his office, aching in many new and interesting ways, the reports had started coming in. His audial buzzed nonstop with comms--all of his officers, with varying degrees of embarrassment or confusion, looking for an explanation. Several he routed to Perceptor to answer, but for the others, "temporary and harmless" seemed good enough.   
  
He hadn't heard from everyone, however. Curiously, he pinged Kup, who only laughed at his concern.   
  
"Kid, I _know_ I told you about the time on Xerxes III-" he began.  
  
Rodimus hid behind his hands and silenced Kup with an awkward laugh.   
  
"Okay, yes you did, but I always assumed you were exaggerating."  
  
"I would never," Kup huffed. Rodimus laughed again, sitting back in his chair. There may have been a suspicious noise or two in the background of Kup's comm but at the moment, Rodimus did not care or question it.   
  
"In any case, I try not to remember all of your stories or I'd never be able to recharge at night." It was Kup's turn to laugh then, rather fondly.   
  
"Enjoy it while it lasts, kid. In a couple days everyone will be griping about why the little buggers are banned even if all they really do is _amplify_ attraction..."   
  
Rodimus caught another noise in the background, a quiet thready noise that might just be a whimper, and hastily he said, "I'll let you go," before disconnecting.   
  
He hesitated for a while before attempting Ultra Magnus. He might have put it off entirely but it was _Magnus_ and this nanite business was not really his scene, as Sandstorm might say. That and he was edgy again, despite low fuel and aching everything. Keeping distracted seemed like a good enough plan.  
  
After about 50 astroseconds, Magnus responded to his ping, opening up a line between them.   
  
"Rodimus?"   
  
"I trust you're aware of the situation?" Rodimus asked.   
  
"Yes, I--I bumped into Sandstorm earlier, he was very--informative," Magnus finished, more awkward than Rodimus had ever heard him. It was kind of adorable.   
  
"Let me guess, you're holed up in your office where it's safe?" Rodimus teased him, unable to resist. A long stretch of silence was the only reply he got. "Magnus?"  
  
Static crackled on the line as Magnus spoke. "I...hadn't thought of that, Prime."   
  
"No more talking," came Arcee's voice, chastising and sharp, followed by a warm rumble of laughter that could only be Springer. "We're not done yet."  
  
"I have to go--" said Magnus, and then the connection ended.   
  
Well, that was interesting. Not sure what to do with himself after that, Rodimus sat in his quiet office for almost a joor until the restless fidgeting became far more unbearable than an aching strut or two, and decided it was time to figure out what the others were up to first hand.


End file.
